


I Wanna Wish You a Merry Christmas

by spiralicious



Series: How You Ruin Me Universe [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - No Hunting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Domestic, Drunk Dean, Feliz Navidad, How You Ruin Me 'verse, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 01, Winterfest in July Bingo 2016, holiday fic, post sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 20:55:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7589956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiralicious/pseuds/spiralicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Bobby's afterglow is interrupted by noise downstairs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Wish You a Merry Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry how long it is taking me to update How You Ruin Me. Please accept this offering of a holiday themed ficlet written for the Feliz Navidad prompt off my bingo card for the Winterfest in July 2016 bingo at Allbingo in the meantime.

Sam laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, while he tried to catch his breath. “Wow, Bobby.”

“Hush up, I'm trying to be dead over here,” Bobby panted out from his side of the bed. 

Sam let out a low chuckle while he rolled over to lay his head on Bobby's chest. It was both a sign of affection and the younger man being a worry wart, listening to the older man's heart. “You aren't allowed to die until after New Year's.”

Bobby's breath started to even out. He combed his fingers through Sam's long hair, affectionately brushing it out of his face. “Can't face the holidays without me, huh?”

“Nope.” Sam turned his head to kiss Bobby's chest and started nuzzling him like an overgrown cat. 

“Sam, what are you doing?” Bobby continued to play with Sam's hair. “I finally turn that overgrown brain of yours into mush?”

The fact that Bobby was actually trying to make some sort of a dirty joke penetrated Sam's fried, post-coital mind. “Yes, Bobby. I'll never be the same. I may not even remember how to make breakfast in the morning.”

“That's not funny, Sam,” Bobby yawned, “food and sex are why I keep you around.” He looked rather amused with himself, even if he was having trouble keeping his eyes open. 

Sam made himself comfortable, his head sharing space on Bobby's pillow, and one arm draped across the older man. “Just finally admit that toys were not the worst idea so we can go to sleep.”

“Fine, that insane gadget you brought home and nagged at me...” Bobby's comment was cut short by a loud bang downstairs. “Okay, this time I know it wasn't the headboard.” 

Both men had heard strange noises earlier, but were too preoccupied to investigate, chalking it up to their normal paranoia. However, it seemed the one time they didn't indulge their shared neuroses, there really was someone or something in the house. Another bang, followed by a couple crashes had both men out of bed. Bobby quickly put on his robe hanging by the door and grabbed the upstairs shotgun by the dresser. Sam pulled on a pair of sweat pants from the floor and the bat from his side of the bed. The two men cautiously made their way to the staircase. They could see a light on downstairs. Slowly, they crept downstairs towards Bobby's office/living room. The closer they got, the clearer the drunken singing could be heard, “Fellas navidad. Felis navidid. Felis navidad, properro ano dee falicidad! I want to wish you a merry Christmas. I want to wish you a merry Christmas...”

Bobby and Sam both lowered their weapons and stared from the doorway. Dean had broken into their house and was decorating it with holiday decorations from who knows where. 

“Dean?” Sam groaned.

Dean stopped shimmying, and butchering the lyrics to _Feliz Navidad,_ to turn around. “Hey! You guys are supposed to be asleep.” He tilted a little too far to the left, but managed to catch himself. “Surprise! Merry Christmas!” Dean tripped over his own feet trying to cross the room.

“How does he keep doing this?” Bobby asked more to himself than to Sam. He had been Dean proofing the house since the older Winchester started drunkenly breaking in during the night. “Doesn't he have other people he can harass without a six hour drive?”

Sam was too busy trying to get his brother off the floor to answer him. It would have been easier if Dean wasn't trying to point out different parts of his decorating genius, instead of standing. 

Bobby sighed. “I'm gonna go get the guest room ready.” He made his way back upstairs and was seriously considering the logistics of electrifying the downstairs windows.


End file.
